


Knits and Weaves

by Thatbookishgirl



Series: Rare-Pair Parade [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bisexual Male Character, Boys Kissing, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Gay Stiles, Good Peter Hale, Grinding, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Naked Cuddling, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Smut, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, model Jackson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatbookishgirl/pseuds/Thatbookishgirl
Summary: Jackson turns out to be warmer than many thought. Stiles has feelings. So does Jackson. Meanwhile, a snowstorm is heading right for them.Summaries are not my forte.





	Knits and Weaves

“Did you know Jackson knits?” Lydia mused.

Stiles and Derek just raised their eyebrows at the comment, not entirely sure where it came from. She simply sat down at the dinner table and announced it as if it were the news of the day.

“Why are you telling us?” Derek sighed.

“Because I just found out that he knits a and it's a bit weird. He even knitted in high school,” Lydia replied.

“You dated for 2 years in high school and you never knew?” Stiles quirked.

No. It didn't really come up,” Lydia shrugged.

Stiles simply made a non-commital noise and looked back at his textbook. Not that he had been able to concentrate for the past hour. Now, of course, he was thinking about Jackson and the knitting habit Lydia just discovered. Of course, Stiles knew. He had known since they were 16. No, Jackson didn't divulge this willingly. Instead, Stiles stumbled upon it like he did most things. He had gone into an art supplies store to get materials for a school project when he spotted Jackson in the yarn aisle. He had a basket full of yarn and he was asking a clerk for size 8 bamboo needles because he preferred them to the metal ones. The woman went and found him some before asking what he was working on.

_ "A blanket for my grandma," _ he said, almost shyly. At first, Stiles thought this was perfect blackmail to hold over his head. But then he saw the way Jackson was nervously biting his lip and fighting a blush. Stiles, against his intense desires to get a one-up on his bully, decided to let it go and tuck the information away. Plus, not that he'd ever admit it, he liked knowing this secret, which almost felt intimate, about the cocky blonde who tortured him regularly.

So, he knew. He had known for 5 years. He was a little surprised it was something he still did after the kanima and London. But maybe it was his way of getting back to normal. He had moved back to the states and lived only a few blocks from him, Lydia, and Derek. Stiles supposed it was how he was learning to settle with everything, because everything had changed after high school. 

Stiles and Lydia, easily, surprised most when it came to changing. Lydia decided, without even consulting Derek, that the former alpha would make the perfect boyfriend for her. He, reluctantly, agreed. Which is promptly when Scott and Stiles found them kissing at the train station before she left for MIT, as if it were a goodbye and that he wasn't following her and Stiles there, like those two hadn’t been kissing for days since they collided in the woods. It was barely a week before Derek appeared at their shared apartment with a courting gift for Lydia. Stiles’ surprise was that to everyone except Lydia and Danny, who had suspected for years. Stiles was gay. Very, very gay. 

_ "Why do you think I always turned you down, Stiles?" _ Lydia teased when he came out.

_ "You acted like I wasn't the only person lechering on Derek," _ Danny piled on. The sheriff, though? He took the most pragmatic stance by saying that he'd love Stiles regardless of his orientation, but that he was glad there's be no unplanned pregnancies in college. If only Lydia's parents were so lucky.

“And how did you make this discovery?” Derek murmured. 

“He invited me over for tea and showed me a baby blanket with matching hat he was working on,” Lydia answered as she smoothed her hand down her barely-there baby bump. Derek smiled and kissed her on the temple before putting his hand over hers.

“Still mad that Jax knew before me,” Stiles pouted.

“Then become a wolf so you know when everyone is pregnant,” Derek sassed.

“If it makes you feel better, Derek, Jackson, and Peter all knew before I did,” Lydia rolled her eyes. Peter was actually the first to really notice and the first to say anything. Peter and Jackson lived in the same building, the building which Peter owned and rented out to Jackson for sinfully cheap. Not that Jackson couldn’t afford it. Not only did he have his inheritance, Jackson was, unbelievably, working as a successful model. Peter just made money through his properties, like Derek, while Stiles and Lydia finished their degrees. 

“It’s nice of him,” Derek was brushing back Lydia’s hair and scenting her neck. Stiles still had to get used to that. Not that he hadn’t seen, and heard, plenty of it. When he first saw them kissing he thought he was hallucinating. But Scott was quick to sputter and trip alongside Stiles and ensure that it was real. The more he saw them together, the more it made sense. Lydia was grounded by Derek and Derek was awakened by Lydia. They balanced each other out in ways that neither had realized they needed.

“When does he even find the time? Didn’t he just finish some new campaign in New York?” Stiles looked up.

“He has plenty of free time when he’s traveling and he said that knitting helps him relax and stay calm. I guess he was anxious a lot in high school and he liked to knit when he couldn’t stay grounded. He has so many knitted things. That purple hat he ‘bought’ me last year? He made it,” she pressed.

“Huh,” Stiles hummed. He remembered that hat, that very nice hat that did not look handmade at all. He was imagining him now, knitting quietly on a plane as he flew across the ocean. It was almost sweet.

“He’s coming over tomorrow with Peter,” Lydia added, “We’re all going to Skype with Scott and Isaac.”

“What time?” Derek hummed.

“Some time in the afternoon,” Lydia answered before directing her attention back to the book Stiles was looking over. They both had exams coming up and, even though she had been distracted by her pregnancy, was still pulling As and intended to keep it that way.

“I have too much to do tomorrow,” Stiles rubbed the space between his eyes and closed his book. He had hardly been paying attention.

“You gotta head out early?” Lydia glanced at him.

“Yea…I’m going to go to my room for awhile and organize. Then sleep. Or try to,” he stood abruptly and wandered back to his room. He did need to organize, but also wanted to escape the lovey eyes Derek was making at Lydia. He was about 2 minutes away from making out with Lydia on every surface of the kitchen regardless of Stiles being there. 

Even though he got routinely uncomfortable with how oddly comfortable Derek was with nudity and extreme public displays of affection, he was very glad that he and Lydia got together. No one had expected, especially Derek. But as soon as she kissed him in the woods the day before they were going to leave he was done for. Derek told Scott and Peter first, that Lydia was his mate. He was sure of it. He had been so distracted by the need for revenge and all the pain that Kate left behind he had completely ignored all the signs his wolf was giving him. Lydia was meant to be his. And Stiles was more than happy for them. He watched Derek become less serious and Lydia become comfortable with who she was. She even went without makeup on more days than she bothered to put any on. Derek liked her face fresh and naked, said her makeup always had a strange scent that covered up her natural scent. 

While his thoughts drifted away from the couple probably kissing on the kitchen floor, he considered the upcoming visit from his dad, Melissa, and Scott. They were flying out to their Cambridge home for Thanksgiving. Stiles was eager to see his best friend and dad again. It had been months. He worried about his dad most days even though he knew Melissa kept him to his diet and made sure he was keeping fit. She apparently put him in a jogging regimen that he did with her. She would send him pictures of a very grumpy looking sheriff when Deputy Parrish forced him to do push-ups. His phone beeping soon diverted his attention. 

**_Scott_ ** _ : Are me and Allie going to have our own room at your place or are we bunking in the living room? _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : Living room, yo. My dad and your mom get the spare bedroom.  _

**_Scott_ ** _ : ugh. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : hey. No ‘ugh’ from you. Your mom hit on my dad first. _

**_Scott_ ** _ : but you don’t have to see them make out on Sunday, family breakfasts. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : but I do have to see Derek and Lydia. _

**_Scott_ ** _ : that’s not worse. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : it’s at least lateral. _

**_Scott_ ** _ : I disagree. As will you when you overhear our parents having relations. You share a wall. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : did you say ‘having relations’ instead of sex? What even? _

**_Scott_ ** _ : shut up, dude. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : you could probably take the spare at Jackson’s. I know he has an office and extra bedroom at his. Or Peter could let you use any of his vacant apartments. _

**_Scott_ ** _ : staying with Jackson wouldn’t be so bad. He’s been nicer to me since he got back from London. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : Jackson is a secret softie.  _

**_Scott_ ** _ : is not. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : is. So is. We can tease him about it together when you get here. I promise it’ll be worth it. _

**_Scott_ ** _ : how much teasing can I get out of whatever information you have. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : oodles. I can quantify it and everything. _

**_Scott_ ** _ : Allie says ‘hi’ and that she wants you to make the chocolate waffles on thanksgiving morning. _

**_Stiles_ ** _ : what Allie wants Allie gets. _

**_Scott_ ** _ : thanks man. _

Stiles set his phone down and decided to go grab a bottle of water and some leftovers. He had hardly eaten before and he needed food to get through the rest of his reading for the night. When he stepped out of his bedroom and headed into the living room he was greeted with a site he had been unfortunate enough to see a few times already. Derek and Lydia were sitting on the couch, her astride his hips, slowly rocking against him. Both were completely nude and he was feeding her raspberries with a soft smile on his face, peppering kisses along her collarbone between berries. He did that whenever they were tied together, which didn’t happen all that often. However, ever since she got pregnant, Derek’s wolf was much closer to the surface and undeniably content. He was always rubbing her stomach.

“Are you serious, guys? You have a bedroom?!” Stiles flailed and turned right back to his own room. He could hear them chuckling, seemingly unashamed at having been caught. Stiles was sure he would walk in on that even more the further along in her pregnancy she got. 

“Stupid, horny, sourwolf all happy and dopey,” Stiles grumbled to himself, only slightly unhappy about it. He was more jealous than anything, but couldn’t deny that the Derek they had now was the best version they could ever hope for. He and Lydia deserved themselves and the happiness they found.

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

Stiles was lazily practicing magic in the living room when he heard a knock at the door. It was either Peter or Jackson. Or both. Derek and Lydia weren’t back yet and Stiles used the empty apartment to practice his latest spell. It was simple, just moving things around the room quickly. He figured he could use it to trick future enemies be switching people around in the blink of an eye. Before he could even get up off the floor to answer the door, Jackson waltzed in. He was dressed nicely, dark pants, a deep coat and a dark blue scarf wrapped around his neck. His hair, however, had apparently been dyed.  

“When did you go platinum?” Stiles teased.

“When going platinum added a 0 to my paychecks,” Jackson drawled and tossed a magazine on the table. It had his latest shots for an up and coming photographer. He knew Jackson brought it over to brag, but he figured the guy had earned it after all this time. He found something he liked and it wasn’t as if he wasn’t good at it and didn’t work hard. 

Stiles picked it up and flipped through the images. He was always surprised by how much Jackson could change his appearance and say so much with a simple gesture. Of course, Jackson had been doing that all his life; pretending to be something or someone else. There were so many facets to him.

“Not that I don’t love all of these, but what was the point of this particular campaign?” Stiles cocked a brow in Jackson’s direction as the blonde stripped off his jacket and scarf. 

“Do you actually care?” Jackson stared.

“Not really. Just making conversation,” he shrugged and set the magazine back down. He wasn’t going to pretend like he didn’t like the images. Jackson was undeniably attractive and Stiles had made note of it several times throughout his life, sometimes with annoyance, lately with a different sort of attitude. He watched Jackson hang the scarf on the rack.

“That one of your knitting projects or did you buy it?” Stiles grinned. Jackson froze for a second and flared his nostrils, “Don’t be all wolfy because I know your secret. I’ve known since we were in high school.”

“What?” the blonde cocked a brow.

“You heard me. I might have seen you buying knitting needles and yarn during our sophomore year. I overheard you with the clerk there. It was very sweet, made me hate you less whenever you were being a jerk. I’d just picture you knitting quietly by a fireplace somewhere,” the spark sassed.

“Hmm,” Jackson worried his lower lip, “Well, for your information, I did make this one.” [LINK TO PATTERN]

“It’s nice. Looks super soft,” he observed.

“It is. Alpaca yarn is really soft,” he breathed out and sat on the couch. He watched the spark fiddle with his fingers before reaching into his own bag and flipping through a book. Stiles often piqued his curiosity, always had. The boy – man – was extraordinarily clever and seemed to be one step ahead of the rest. If he had an evil streak like Peter did then he might even be frightened of Stiles. He was also willing to admit that Stiles had definitely grown into his looks, no longer was he lanky and awkward. He now moved with precision and intent with panes of muscle hidden under his clothing. He had recently started seeing men as well as women, which Danny has celebrated. When he watched Stiles’ long fingers dancing along the spine of his book Jackson inhaled deeply and refocused so he didn’t think too hard about them. 

“When are the rest coming?” Jackson asked.

“Derek and Lydia went out to grab some food. Lydia had wanted to go on her own, but Derek insisted on escorting her. This pregnancy is going to drive her insane,” Stiles noted.

“Ya know, I thought it would be weird that she was pregnant with Derek’s baby, but I have never seen her happier. Him either. Derek called Peter for advice about babies the other day. It was strange to overhear. Of course, Peter having actual advice on childrearing and taking care of babies in general was equally odd. I always forget that he is a dad…” Jackson trailed off.

“Well, the pack is growing. I’m surprised Scott hasn’t knocked up Allie yet,” Stiles snorted. Jackson grinned at that. Hell, he was surprised they didn’t have any unplanned teen pregnancies.

“When she does get pregnant I can make them a blanket,” Jackson hummed.

“What do I gotta do to earn a Jackson creation? Do I need to reproduce or have had sex with you?” Stiles waggled his brows.

“If you’re under the impression I knit things for my one-night stands you are mistaken. And you only get something knitted from me if I care about you as a person,” he answered.

“You don’t care about me?!” Stiles scoffed, knowing Jackson  _ did _ care about him.

“Shut-up, Stilinski,” he groaned.

“It’s getting so cold, Jax. A huge snow storm is moving in. I need something to keep me warm,” he bat his eyes at the blonde who only smirked in reply. 

“No boyfriend to curl up with?” Jackson taunted.

“Not currently. The last one simply wasn’t up to par,” he sighed and leaned back against the couch.

“And what is par for you anyway?” Jackson pressed.

“If you must know, he was too…timid. Yet, somehow, so demanding. Every time there was any sort of pack meeting he would want to come along and I ran out of excuses after awhile. He got jealous of Derek too. He was convinced Derek and I were fucking on the side. As if,” Stiles scoffed, “So, I just need to find myself a wolf or someone who is way too accepting of my lies when supernatural stuff goes down.”

“Or you could just have one-night stands and avoid the entire conflict,” Jackson added.

“Some of us like consistency and relationships,” Stiles rolled his eyes, “I happen to like going out on dates and going to bed with the same person all the time, then waking up to them making me waffles and bacon.”

“Oh? They always make you breakfast? Are you that good in bed?” Jackson teased.

“I am that good. But no one has made me breakfast that wasn’t Lydia in a bit. The last guy only offered to take me out to breakfast,” he offered.

“Is that not good enough?” he pushed on.

“Of course not. Have you never had someone make breakfast for you and feed it to you between kisses? It’s the best,” he sighed, missing that ritual he hadn’t had in a few years.

“Can’t say that I have,” Jackson hummed and turned his head towards the door. In the next minute Peter, Derek, and Lydia were entering the apartment. Derek was rubbing his hands up and down Lydia’s arms, the tip of her nose and cheek red from the cold. She burrowed a bit into his chest while Peter unceremoniously threw himself onto the armchair. 

“Can we please get this started? I have people to meet with,” Peter whined.

“Your next hook-up is not more important than a pack meeting,” Derek grunted while Stiles set up the laptop to Skype in Scott, Allison, Isaac, and Chris. Erica and Boyd were unable to be part of this meeting as they were up in Oregon with Boyd’s family. They had a cabin in the mountains that did not get very good reception or have a stable internet connection. Plus, they figured they would give the couple a few weeks to themselves. 

“What are we even going to be talking about at this one? There are no new developments. No new enemies. We all know Lydia is pregnant already,” Peter continued to complain.

“There are new developments,” Lydia cut in and sat gently on the couch next to Jackson and left a space for Derek. Soon, the computer was ready and Stiles was calling into the others. The screen was quickly filled with two smiling wolves and an ex-hunter between them with Chris hovering in the background, looking completely put-upon. Stiles sort of zoned out when Derek talked, he already knew what they were discussing. Derek and Lydia were going to get their own place, giving Stiles enough time to find his own place, he had a few months. Derek was essentially falling into full nesting mode, he had found a house near campus that had 2 stories and 4 bedrooms. Stiles had already seen pictures since Derek asked Stiles for approval. As soon as he saw the wrap around deck Stiles knew Lydia would love it. Peter seemed unphased by the information and Allison was very excited about it. Stiles only started listening again when he heard his name.

“Stiles can stay with me until he finds a place,” Jackson mumbled.

“I’m sorry?” Stiles furrowed his brow.

“Derek and Lydia are going to get even more…” he waved his hands at them, Lydia sitting on Derek’s lap while his hand was gripping her hip, thumb making small circles, “So you can stay in my spare bedroom if you don’t find a place before they move, especially if they want to do it earlier rather than later.”

“That is uncharacteristically nice of you,” Stiles smiled.

“Yea, he’s all rainbows and sprinkles,” Peter droned from his chair.

“You’re one to talk,” Chris interrupted.

“I’ll have you know that I am very hospitable,” Peter gave a very wolfish grin. 

“I remember,” Chris crossed his arms over his chest and shot a smile back.

“If only you could visit more so you could be reminded more often,” Peter bit his lip and Chris leaned forward a little.

“Gross. Stop flirting in front of me,” Allison grumbled.

“We could be worse,” Peter teased.

“They really could be. I’ve heard them,” Jackson grumbled.

“Make it stop,” Allison buried her face against Scott’s shoulder.

“I would also like to not watch the old men flirting,” Stiles interjected, “But it could be so much worse, Allie. I walked in on the red head and the alpha just last night. In the living room. On this couch. Like it was no big deal.” Derek just rolled his eyes and finished the discussion. They convened pretty quickly after that, Lydia and Allison chatting away while Chris wandered off to make a call, which Peter also disappeared to take one. Jackson and Stiles exchanged a look because that wasn’t fooling anyone. Derek just went to read, leaving his mate to talk to Allison since Scott had nothing else he wanted to talk about. Jackson remained, mostly silent as he just sat in the company of Stiles and Lydia. He found himself watching them and feeling incredibly relaxed. He travelled so much that he almost forget what it was like to feel settled. 

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

It had been a week since the pack meeting and Stiles had since walked in on Lydia and Derek 3 more times, once in the kitchen, another time in the living room, and another time in the laundry room. He was at his wit’s end with them because they decided to just fuck each other silly wherever they felt. He was frankly surprised they hadn’t gotten down in his bedroom, though, he suspected they might’ve at some point. He knew Jackson was home so he decided to escape from his apartment where Derek was currently mounting Lydia in the guest bathroom, also known as the hallway bathroom that Stiles used regularly.

“It’s like living in a frat house or something. Seriously,” Stiles complained as Jackson reluctantly let him inside. He had called ahead of time, asking for refuge. It was snowing somewhat so he didn’t want to duck into a coffee shop or book store only to wind up stuck and forced to walk in bad weather. Jackson wasn’t doing anything anyway. Honestly, he was knitting while listening to a podcast he had come to appreciate. He was looking forward to the quiet and accepted that with Stiles there would be no such thing.

“Why do you think I don’t live in an apartment with Peter? Aside from liking my own space, he’s somewhat of a slut when Chris isn’t around,” he sighed and bolted the door before wandering to the kitchen, “Do you want anything?”

“Nah. I have a thermos of tea here and I’m not hungry. I’m going to sit quietly in this corner and you won’t even know I’m here,” he smiled as he sat on the large armchair in the corner of the room.

“I don’t buy for one second that you’ll be remotely quiet,” Jackson deadpanned and went back to the couch.

“I resent your lack of faith in me,” he looked to what Jackson was working with. He had balls of dark green yarn with an unfinished project in his lap. It must’ve been the blanket that he had told Lydia about. The color was nice, it would match Derek’s eyes and pair well with Lydia’s hair, depending on what traits their child would inherit. He was almost fascinated watching Jackson work so diligently, his fingers moving so quickly.

“You’re staring,” Jackson announced without looking up.

“Of course I am. You’re knitting like a pro and with the calm demeanor of a grandma. This is weird for me,” he snickered.

“Do I need to put you in the hallway?” Jackson warned.

“I’ll shut up and stop staring. Scout’s honor,” Stiles turned away slightly and opened his books. Jackson observed him for a second before going back to his project and popping in his earbuds. He was listening to the podcast LORE. Which was almost comical for him at a certain point because a lot of the myths discussed are things he knows to be real, like werewolves. But he enjoyed it all the same. He made it through 3 episodes and finished the blanket before taking a break. He then realized Stiles hadn’t said a word in that entire timeframe. When he looked over he saw Stiles looking listlessly out the window with a small smile on his lips as he drank his tea. The brunette had clearly read through everything he brought with him and was quietly watching the snow fall. He saw Stiles shiver slightly and decided to turn up the heat. When he began to move Stiles looked up and almost beamed at Jackson.

“The snow it really coming down. We’ve been here for years but I’m never used to it and I get excited like a kid every time,” Stiles grinned.

“It is pretty,” Jackson shrugged and turned up the thermostat. As a werewolf he didn’t need to worry about this sort of thing as his body ran very hot. When he looked outside he saw what appeared to be at least 2 feet of snow, “Wow. We really got dumped on.”

“And it’s still coming down. So…I might need to…crash here?” Stiles tested.

“Yes, Stiles,” Jackson sighed, “Its not like I’m going to send you out into a blizzard.”

“Will my being around enough endear me to you to the point of earning a piece of your knitted affection?” Stiles leaned forward and leaned his head against Jackson’s side.

“I’ll make you something if it means you stop bugging me about it,” he rolled his eyes and smiled down at Stiles, running his hand briefly through Stiles’ hair before pulling away. Both men moved over to the couch and took a seat. Stiles picked up the green fabric and looked it over.

“This is really nice, Jax,” Stiles praised. Jackson was about the reply when all the power shut off.

“Unexpected,” Jackson sighed.

“Silver-lining...I’m not in a coffee shop with a bunch of strangers,” Stiles hummed as they both looked out the window onto the streets. Everything was covered in a thick layer of snow with little light coming into the city. The moon made everything glow and it looked beautiful. 

“Second silver-lining, I won’t kick you out into the cold,” the blonde chuckled.

“Ever the saint,” Stiles rolled his eyes and settled back into the couch after he grabbed a book for Jackson’s shelf. They settled back into silence, the podcast turned off the conserve battery life since they had no way of knowing when power would come back on. Peter’s building had battery-powered equipment stored in the basement, like hot plates, along with other emergency supplies, which Jackson fetched some of, just in case. Before they knew it, 6 hours had flown by the with snow still falling and the night getting colder. Stiles had hunkered down into 3 blankets and put on another jacket, still shivering. Jackson had werewolf heat to keep him comfortable so he still lounged in relative comfort. He kept glancing up at Stiles who burrowed deeper into the layers of fabric, teeth chattering and fighting sleep. His resolve broke when he realized he could see Stiles’ breath in the air.

“Come on, Stilinski,” Jackson stood and pulled back the blankets before climbing in. Stiles squeaked when he felt Jackson’s body press up against his, the heat quickly filling the space, “It’s not like i can let your freeze to death in my apartment. Just get to sleep and don’t sass me.” Stiles said nothing, he just grinned and tucked himself under Jackson’s chin and let strong arms wrap around him. They were still under the pile of blankets and Stiles was so fuzzy and warm by that point he was asleep in 5 minutes. Jackson just listened to his heartbeat steady and fell asleep to the rhythm. 

 

2 hours later Stiles woke with a start. Jackson had slipped from the couch and took most of the heat with him. He looked around the room to find candles lit all over and a hot plate on the table making tea. Jackson was quietly knitting as the water came to a boil and looked over to the flailing brunette.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jackson yawned.

“Time is it?” he mumbled in reply.

“It’s only about 2am, but I couldn’t sleep. You snore,” he scoffed.

“I do not,” Stiles grumbled before pulling his hat down, “You took all the body heat away.”

“You’ll get it back later. I was getting overly warm,” Jackson continued, “And you kick, on top of the snoring.”

“I do not…” Stile tempted before conceding to the fact that he  _ did _ flail and kick a bit. The last guy he took home had complained about it. He complained about a few things, actually. Like how clingy Stiles was, how needy he seemed to be, and that he didn’t want to stay for breakfast. And just like that Stiles was feeling sad all over again. 

“There is no way me informing you of the flailing made you that sad,” Jackson deadpanned.

“No. Not you. Just reminded me of what the last guy said,” Stiles scrubbed his hands down his face. He didn’t need to dwell on some guy from over 4 months ago.

“He said you kicked?” Jackson cocked a brow.

“Among other things. He was a dick anyway,” he blew out and tugged the blanket around his shoulders.

“He probably was a dick,” the other agreed, “No need to be rude to someone you just slept with.” He was trying to make Stiles laugh a little, the smell of sadness a bit too much. That smell used to cling to Stiles like an acrid aftershave, but it had receded in the past few years. 

“Well, he was a dick. And didn’t deserve my waffles anyway,” Stiles snorted.

“Chocolate chip?” he asked.

“Duh,” Stiles pressed before shivering again, “Please come back to the couch, Jax. Its so fucking cold. California did not prepare me for this.”

“Fine, you big baby,” he set down his knitting and brought the tea across the room with him, “Take off your shirt.”

“Excuse me? That doesn’t improve the situation,” Stiles balked. Jackson just stripped off his own shirt and towered over him.

“Better way to exchange body heat is skin on skin. Take off your shirt,” Jackson sighed. Stiles stared for a minute, not remotely distracted by the miles of hard muscles, before he tugged off the shirts he was wearing. Jackson stuttered for a second when he saw the flash of metal. Stiles had two pierced nipples and several tattoos decorating his chest. Those were...new. At least he thought so. He realized he hadn’t seen Stiles shirtless since high school. 

“When did you get those?” Jackson tentatively reached out to trace the pattern that ran down his sternum.

“Last year,” he replied, leaning into the touch, “ They all serve different purposes. Some are for protection. Others are more specific.”

“They're nice. Very you,” he praised with a soft smile, “But the piercings?”

“Those were for selfish reasons. I’m...sensitive. They feel nice. Really nice,” he revealed.

Jackson just stared at him until he maneuvered them deeper under the blankets. As he moved them he accidentally brushed the back of his fingers over the bar piercing in Stiles’ right nipple. The man gasped and bit back a moan. Jackson froze and listened to the faster heartbeat. He sees Stiles’ pupils dilate as he struggles to compose himself. The faint smell of arousal begins to surround them as he realizes how close their bodies are, skin on skin and warmth filling the space. Stiles swallowed hard and Jackson crumbled. He took the bar between his fingers and tugged lightly. Stiles almost shouted and canted his hips. He felt the hard line of Stiles against his thigh and took a deep breath. Stiles aroused smelled so much better than he did in highschool. His wolf wanted to bury himself in it; he smelled like apple pie and caramel and burnt cedar. He smelled like home should smell. 

“So responsive, Stilinski,” Jackson teased as he continued to toy with the piercings and watch a blush spread from Stiles’ cheeks down his neck and chest. 

“I - why are you -” he was cut off by a harder tug to his left nipple. Jackson’s eyes flashed blue and he bent his neck to scent Stiles along his neck.

“Because I know it feels good. And you smell so, so nice. Why would I stop?” he half growled before licking up Stiles’ throat. Stiles submitted fully and lete Jackson scent and lick him all over. He reached up to grab the wolf’s shoulders and held on.

“Oh...Jax,” he gasped. That only seemed to spur him on as the licks turned to bites and his moaning only grew louder.

“Fuck. Why do you smell so good? No one has ever smelled so good. Wanna keep you naked and wanting and wrapped up in my bed all the time. Wanna bury myself in so deep you always smell like me. Wanna just - I,” Jackson rambled as his wolf rose right to the surface and got increasingly possessive. Stiles, for his part, was feeling all these complex and old fantasies come true. But he cleared his head and remembered that this was Jackson and certain habits never die.

“Wait. Wait, Jax. Gotta stop,” he managed. Jackson growled in response, but slowly ceased his movement. He raised his head to meet Stiles’ eyes and saw apprehension clouded with lust “If this is a joke or something, I don’t want it. You can’t say shit like that to me as a joke or even just to get your rocks off. Its mean.”

“Damnit, Stiles,” Jackson groused, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t say stuff I don’t mean. Not anymore. Because you do smell good. And look good. And  _ feel _ good.” He demonstrated this by pressing their hips together. 

“I can’t be another fling,” Stiles half-moans as he frowns, overcome by the pleasure of the friction he is feeling.

“A fling?! You could never be a fling,” Jackson announced before finally kissing Stiles firmly on the lips. Both men felt like the world exploded as their lips crashed together. Tongues danced together and hands were everywhere. Stiles felt the button of his pants being worked open and a hand diving into his briefs. Jackson was quick, quicker than he could’ve imagined, having never been with a wolf before. Jackson was biting his lip and stripping them both of every last stitch of clothing. Stiles had seen Jackson naked numerous times, but no time measured up to this. Jackson would never look as good to him as he did right now, panting and eyes flashing as he looked like he wanted to devour Stiles. The heat was coming off of him in waves and he had forgotten about the lack of power and snow piling up outside. Then Jackson was kissing him again and all the blood left his brain. He spread his legs and Jackson slipped between them like he had always been meant to be there. Their bodies moved together fluidly and Stiles can’t remember his name. Jackson was kissing back down his chest now and dragging his nose from one hip bone to the next. He could tell Jackson was scenting him as he went and was seemingly determined to drown him in the smell of blonde werewolf. 

“Fuck,” Stiles hissed out when the tip of Jackson’s tongue lapped at the head of his cock. Lips wrapped around it and sucked hard. Stiles stuttered and clawed at Jackson’s hair. He felt the broad tongue swirl and lick his most sensitive areas. He was so distracted by it he didn’t feel Jackson’s hand make its way to his chest again and pinch his nipple, pulling on the bar. Stiles nearly came right then and Jackson just hummed around his girth and took him even deeper. 

“Jax. Jax. Jax,” he chanted as he struggled not to thrust up into his mouth. He felt the other man slowly pull off, his lips red and slick.

“You taste as good as I’ve imagined,” he grinned, “and sound better.”

“Really?” Stiles paused as he gently let his fingers trail down Jackson’s jaw.

“Yea,” he swallowed and leaned into Stiles’ hand on his face, “We don’t have to do anything, ya know? We can just...i don’t know...be close.”

“Yea. Close. We can be really close,” Stiles murmured before sitting up and planting himself in Jackson’s lap. He ground down on Jackson’s impressive erection and kissed him so fiercely he wasn’t sure either of them were breathing. The wolf’s arms came up around him and held him tight as they kissed and undulated. A hand slipped down to squeeze the globe of Stiles’ ass and fingers danced up and down his cleft. 

“Can I?” Jackson mumbled against Stiles’ lips.

“Fuck, yes,” he moaned and felt a finger circle his rim, “Lube.”

“Bedroom,” Jackson grunted before picking him up to carry him to the bedroom. Stiles’ long legs wrapped around Jackson’s waist and they never stopped kissing as they moved. Stiles loved this. Loved being manhandled. The blonde didn’t even put him down to fish out the lube and climb onto the bed. He sat back and let the weight of Stiles in his lap anchor him to keep control. His wolf was running in circles, wanting to bite, claim,  _ mate _ . 

Mate. That word had never echoed in his head with any partner he had ever had. Maybe it was because Stiles was pack and he smelled like home. He wasn’t going to think about it too much because he just wanted to get into the man in his lap. He started with two fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly. Stiles’ back arched, pushing his own chest against Jackson, the metal bars brushing across the blonde’s jaw. He turned his face and sucked the bar into his mouth, teeth tugging and tongue lapping. He added a third finger while he continued to take Stiles apart. He was nearly ready to add a 4th finger, just to be sure, until Stiles pushed Jackson back and positioning himself. Jackson’s hands were firmly on Stiles’ hips as he felt him slowly sink down onto his cock, the wet heat wrapped around him so perfectly. 

“Jesus christ,” Jackson gasped. Once fully seated Stiles shot him a grin that was nearly feral. He rolled his hips and internally celebrated as he watched Jackson’s eye roll back. He continued this motion until he was able to get the head of his partner’s cock to brush against his prostate over and over again. Jackson’s eyes kept flashing blue and his claws kept slipping out and leaving scratches all over that pale and creamy skin. 

“Not gonna last,” Stiles managed as he bounced up and down.

“Good. Neither am I,” Jackson admitted. He sat forward to capture Stiles’ lips again and thrust up to meet each roll of the hips. The heat coiled in his stomach and he began to jack Stiles in kind. They were both wrecked and just teetering on the edge. 

“Jax!” Stiles shouted as he came hard and fast, his cum painting Jackson’s chest and spilling out over his fist. Jackson, upon seeing this, let out a growl and emptied himself into Stiles. He bit down on Stiles’ shoulder and chased his orgasm as the brunette continued to move on his lap.

“Holy shit, Jackson. So good,” Stiles deflated as he fell forward to be cradled in the man’s arms while Jackson licked along the bite mark he made. 

“We’re going again in about 15 minutes,” he decided.

“Ok, buddy,” Stiles snorted, “Might have to let you do all the work, though. You broke me.” He was smiling broadly and kept touching every inch of Jackson.

“That shouldn’t be a problem. I usually do most of the work when you’re around,” he sassed.

“Hey,” he protested, “I resent that.”

“Shut it, Stilinski,” he rolled them so Stiles was beneath him again. He began to lick Stiles clean, not caring for the whimpers as Stiles was still sensitive. 

“Before - uh - before more of this...after today…” he wasn’t sure how to finish what he wanted to ask. He wanted to know if this would continue after today. Would Jackson want to kiss him again? Hold him? Any of the things they’d done this evening?

“What’s going to happen is I’m going to clean you up. I’ll have you again, then maybe a nap. And if the power is still out when the sun comes up I’ll just use the battery powered hot plate to make you pancakes. Not as good as waffles, but still breakfast,” Jackson was beaming as he looked up at those honey-brown eyes.

“Chocolate chip?” Stiles bit his lip.

“Yea. And i expect you to make them next time,” he finished before kissing him again.

 

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

 

The snow storm lasted 3 days. By the time the town was up and running again Stiles had spent over a week with Jackson. They had reached out to the others. Lydia and Derek were perfectly content and safe in their apartment. Peter was...vague about his whereabouts, but they suspected he had taken a flight to California. It was tuesday when Stiles could finally make it back to his place. When he walked inside he was wrapped up in a very soft-looking scarf and stumbled to the couch. Derek looked up at him took a deep breath.

“Oh my god. You reek of Whittemore,” he wrinkled his nose.

“Well, he probably reeks of me too,” he winked. 

“They were in the same space for a week,” Lydia mentioned, not even looking up from her book.

“And that explains why they came all over each other,” Derek crossed his arms over his chest and gave a shit-eating grin.

“Yep,” Stiles sighed, “How else was I going to land a scarf?”

“Oh my god,” Lydia gaped.

“Tell them to stop being judgemental. I can hear them from the stairs,” Jackson shouted from outside.

“They’re always judgey,” he shouted back just before Jackson came into the apartment. He slid up next to Stiles and planted a kiss on his temple. 

“Stop staring,” Jackson looked over at Derek. 

“Let ‘em. Its payback,” Stiles smiled and kissed jackson back, “Next time we can let them catch us naked on the couch.”

“I’ll burn this whole place down if I have to see it,” Derek warned.

“Ridiculous. All of you,” Lydia shook her head and went back to her book. That thanksgiving went smoother with Jackson’s apartment available. It became Stiles after Derek and Lydia moved. He was supposed to find his own place, but never really left Jackson’s. 


End file.
